


A Less Than Divine End to a Hellish Afternoon

by weirdwednesday



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Demon Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Werewolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 16:21:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10857654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weirdwednesday/pseuds/weirdwednesday
Summary: "you’re having a really bad day and look up and kinda say, “please, please, please, someone help me”, and one minute later a guy with little horns pops up from NOWHERE and just goes, “man, you don’t know how fast angels are. like, daaaaaamn. can you believe I am feeling the tiniest bit exhausted? WOW”apparently the Devil’s son heard your request and had to fight several angels just to arrive first and be your helping “guardian” because “you’re cute”."I saw this post on tumblr like an hour ago and this story is the result.





	A Less Than Divine End to a Hellish Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

> I literally saw that post and started writing, I just found it so fitting for Stiles and Derek I couldn't wait for someone else to write it.

_Fucking faeries._

 

The worst part about them is they’re not evil, not per say. They’re… mischievous, but at this point in the day, Derek doesn’t give a shit whether they deserve to die or not, he has had it with the tiny fuckers. Derek is used to the fighting, to holding his organs in place while his healing kicks in, _that_ he can handle, however, the endless pranks and annoying tricks, he can’t deal with. There is no point to what the faeries do, they just like to amuse themselves and they chose Derek as the butt of their jokes.

 

It’s currently 5:00 pm on a Tuesday and Derek’s hair is pink. 

 

—

 

Derek woke up this morning in the middle of the Preserve. Naked. Cursing Scott’s no violence policy against “harmless” creatures, he had no choice but to take on the full shift and make his way home, where he could call Scott and demand some sort of action be taken against the little fuckers. Things don’t go according to plan. 

 

About ten minutes in, a fucking animal shelter van shows up out of nowhere and takes him in. This is when Derek decides he’s going to kill every single one of the faeries, he doesn’t give a shit about anything anymore. 

 

The dogs are all scared of him. Except for a chihuahua that won’t stop trying to hump him. A fucking chihuahua, really?

 

After he manages to escape, and makes it home, Derek just wants the day to be over, even though it’s hardly 11:00 am. But all thoughts of a bed and a nice shower go flying out the window when he opens the door to his apartment and finds it to be completely empty. The only things left are a pair of exercise shorts and a t-shirt so old he looks like a stripper wearing it. Whatever, at least he’s not naked anymore.

 

Deaton explains that his things will most likely be back before the day is over, that faerie tricks aren’t long-lasting, and that no, he can’t kill them all, not only because they’re harmless, but because they’re also imposible to find. He said they’d probably be moving on soon, so he shouldn’t worry too much. Derek decides he’s going to wait out in his empty apartment. After all, how much shit can they pull in such a small place?

 

Needless to say, he underestimated them. His entire apartment flooded, but he didn’t budge, he could sit in water for a few hours. And then the mice came. Out of nowhere an entire herd of mice started in on him and Derek is not a fearful guy but dammit there are limits to his bravery and fucking mice are it. So he books it out of there and proceeds to spend the entire day running from one prank to the other. 

In just five hours he’s managed to outrun a herd of bees, stumble into a stand at the market effectively ruining the display and consequently being glared at by everyone, get hit by a stray baseball, get hit _on_ by the local soccer mom club on their way to yoga class eventually being to dragged to said yoga class and learning that his body can’t bend very much and dislocating his hip (seriously his fucking hip, he’s 30, not 70), outrun _another_ herd of bees, and finally the icing on the proverbial cake, is his fucking hair. _It’s pink_.

 

— 

 

He’s splayed out of a bench, begging for something, anything to take away his suffering, “Please, please, please, is anyone out there?” He whispers to the sky, he’s never been much of a believer, what with his family burning and everything, but he really has nothing more to do. He’s starting to gather the strength to get up and go home when suddenly a figure appears beside him. Startled, Derek looks at the strange appearance, noting it’s human shape, a rather attractive one, with soft brown hair, moles all over and a pink blush Derek wants to _taste._ Jesus it’s been a while since he’s felt this strongly about someone. No, something, Derek has to remind himself. Just as he’s about to demand an explanation, the man turns towards him and smiles.

 

Slightly panting he says, “Man, you do _not_ know how fast angels are. Like, damn. Can you believe I am feeling the tiniest bit exhausted?”

 

Confused, Derek just stares at him. 

 

“Oh! Where are my manners? Hello! I’m Stiles, the Devil’s son, nice to meet you.”

 

“Um.” Derek intelligently responds.

 

“I seem to recall you asking for divine help, now I’m certainly not divine, however I _can_ help you out.”

 

“Aren’t favors in exchange of souls?” While Derek is under no illusion he’s got a guaranteed ticket to heaven, he’d, at the very least, like to try. 

 

“Well yes, we usually deals in souls, but I’m not looking to take yours.” Stiles smiles.

 

“Then what _do_ you want?” 

 

“Nothing, you’re just too cute to pass up an opportunity to talk to.” Stiles winks and Derek is baffled, the Devil’s son, who’s name is apparently _Stiles_ wants to help him out, because he’s _cute_. What the fuck?

 

“So you’ll get rid of the faeries, and leave my soul intact, in exchange for a conversation?” Derek asks warily. He’s starting to think the faeries are behind this as well. 

 

“Oh faeries, those can be a pain in the ass, hmm,” Stiles closes his eyes and after a few seconds snaps his fingers. “There! Done! I sent them away. I also made sure they wouldn’t come back.” Stiles smiles.

 

“So that’s it? They’re gone?”

 

“Yep.” 

 

“And I still have my soul?”

 

“Correct.”

 

“And I owe you nothing?” 

 

“Well, no, but I do have one request if you don’t mind.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Can I walk you home?” Stiles smiles, and it’s a very nice smile if Derek is being honest with himself.

 

Derek smiles back. 

 

“Okay.”

 

—

 

Later on Derek finds out that demons are not all evil and have a stamina that rivals a werewolf’s. 

 

He's torn between sending a fruit basket to the faeries, and writing an ode to demon sex.

 

In the end he settles for sucking Stiles dick one last time. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it leave a comment/kudo, thanks for reading! I'm at dereksbabe.tumblr.com


End file.
